Last weekend has seen two big protests. In London the Extinction Rebellion (read their web site and weep) blockaded bridges across the Thames as a protest against climate change and the use of fossile fuels. The Extinction Rebellion are mostly a bunch of useful idiots who are completely controlled by the likes of MI5. The term is ‘controlled opposition’ and it’s used to direct and control public anger. The usurping of the Occupy movement, Black Lives Matter, Antifa and all the rest fall into a similar category. None of it is real, folks.

In France this weekend we had big protests by the gilet jaunes (the yellow jackets) who were protesting against a massive 30% hike in fuel prices. The totally hated President Macron (he gets loudly booed whenever he appears in public) apparently introduced the fuel hike in order to reduce carbon emissions and to to encourage clean energy. Do you see how this sedgeways into the London protest, which took place at the same time? The difference is, the protests in France were real, whereas the London protest was utterly contrived by the security services.

In a similar vein, CJ Hopkins has published a very good piece today on Off-Guardian, called The Hitlergate Hearings. The sarcasm and irony in the piece is just wonderful and in my humble opinion really captures where we’re at right now. The only part of Hopkins’ piece that I disagree with (and I may have missed something here) is when he says:

The goal of the “Resistance” is to make it unmistakeably clear who is really running things, and what happens to annoying billionaire ass clowns who get elected president without their permission, and to the ignorant rabble who elect such ass clowns…

I did give Trump the benefit of the doubt when he first became President; however, as the old saying goes, actions speak louder than words: everything President Trump has done is advancing the neo-con agenda, an agenda that was started big-time by President Clinton and has been ramped-up by every President ever since. Ie, Trump is completely contrived.

This has been one of the most amazing days that I’ve ever witnessed in British politics – talk about a bunch of ferrets in a sack, what with Brexiteers, Remainers, Blairites, Corbynistas, and all the rest of it. Probably most notable was prime minister Theresa May’s press conference this afternoon: cringeworthy is not the word for it (if such a word exists). Also notable was the debate in the House of Commons this afternoon, when Nigel Dodds, deputy leader of the Democratic Unionist Party (DUP) stood up and utterly condemned Theresa May, calling her a traitor to the DUP. This has received surprisingly little comment, despite the fact that it now effectively means that the Conservative government no longer has a majority in the Commons and can no longer govern.

What we’re looking at here is the total disintegration of the British government, a bunch of shysters, incompetents and crooks who have only been kept alive by an equally criminal mainstream media.

We’re looking at a General Election folks, probably in February or March of next year.

This goes way beyond the UK and Europe. It’s all about the totally psychotic American Empire, which absolutely controls the European Union. What happens in the UK in the coming months will have worldwide ramifications as the American Empire continues to collapse.

I originally posted the following YouTube video when George Martin died in 2016 (here). It somehow seems appropriate for this latest moment in British history…

The next British General Election will be a history-making moment, not just for Britain but also for the rest of the world.

If press reports can be believed (here), today the UK government has reached a leaving deal with the EU. At the time of writing there are no details of this deal. Apparently there’s going to be an emergency Cabinet meeting about it tomorrow. This apparent deal will later be put to Parliament for a vote.

This is historic stuff, not only from an anglo-centric point of view, but also because there’s a lot of other countries in Europe who have had quite enough of the neo-con/American Empire entity known as the European Union (EU).

It’s all a real ball of wool that is very difficult to predict.

From the UK point of view, I did think there might be a general election before this Christmas. However, because Theresa May’s government has kept kicking the Brexit can down the road a pre-Christmas general election is no longer in the time frame.

After last year’s general election Theresa May’s government lost its majority, and is now only kept in power by the Democratic Unionist Party (DUP), by a measure of just six votes.

It seems highly likely that the DUP will not accept May’s Brexit deal (what with the Irish border issues) and will withdraw support of the present Conservative government. This means that the government will no longer have a majority and will not be able to function/pass laws. In this event the Queen (who as sovereign really rules the UK) will have two choices: the Queen will either have to ask the opposition party to try and form a government – something that the Queen and the Establishment are unlikely to do, because the opposition party presently consists of Corbyn & Co – or else there will have to be a general election.

To repeat, this is all incredibly difficult to predict (ie, President Trump might start WW3 in the meantime) but it looks like there will be a general election in the UK in either February or March of next year, 2019.

My grandfather ‘served’ in the First World War. His name was Robert Foster (I was named after him). Back then you could join the army at the age of 16. My grandfather Robert was 15 and lied about his age. He joined the Royal Artillery Regiment and took part in the battle of Verdun, which was one of the biggest slaughters of the First World War. During this totally senseless bloodbath my grandfather was near an exploding shell and was thrown up into a tree. By some miracle he survived (it’s a family trait) and after recovering in hospital he was sent back to the trenches. My grandfather Robert then refused an order from an officer (“over the top, boys!”). As punishment he was tied to a gun carriage and lashed. What saved my grandfather in that war was that he was gassed in the trenches, as were so many others, and he was evacuated back to Britain. My grandfather Robert died in 1947 from lung cancer…

Here’s a photo taken of my grandfather Robert, beside my grandmother Lil. This photo was probably taken sometime in the 1930s. You can probably see how frail my grandfather Robert looks. The medal he’s wearing is for being gassed in the trenches.

I’ve now been banned from commenting on Craig Murray’s blog on two occasions. That’s fine, because it’s Craig’s blog and it’s up to him who’s allowed to comment.

But, I always say, when these sort of blogs start asking you for money (as Craig has recently done) it’s a dead give away that it’s a CIA limited hang-out operation. I have a lot of respect for Craig, but look at his recent post, which highly praises George Soros…

I’m in the process of writing another memoir, which is now the fifth one. Does the world need another memoir by Rob Godfrey..? probably not, but this one is an attempt to explain the anxiety attacks that have plagued my entire life. In chronological order this is actually the first memoir. It covers from when I was born until when I reached the age of 18. From that point the other memoirs take over.

To give a flavour, the following photograph was taken in 1970, when I was six years old. It shows the pathway leading down to King Arthurs’ castle in Tintagel, Cornwall. You’ll notice that there are no parents around (they were probably in the pub).

From left to right: my cousin Gary, cousin Andrew, cousin Ronnie, in front of Ronnie is my sister Sue, holding a monkey (Sue is 18 months older than me), cousin Lorraine, in front of Lorraine is my cousin Tracy, and on the right is me, with a parrot on my head. I’m actually the youngest person in this photograph, being a year younger than cousin Andrew and cousin Tracy, and even at the tender age of six it was apparent that I would grow into a big, strapping lad.

The parrot and the monkey belonged to a photographer who hanged around at the top of the path and charged tourists for photos. That parrot was a vicious creature and would later take a chunk out of my cousin Ronnie’s shoulder. Ah, happy days…

And here’s some extracts from the first chapter of my latest memoir, An Anxious Life…
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I was no stranger to hospitals during my childhood. There were regularly accidents in which my head would get cracked open, requiring stitches. One such was during my tenth birthday party. We were playing hide and seek. I found somewhere to hide under my father’s truck in the driveway. One of my chums discovered where I was. In all the excitement I suddenly leapt up, forgetting that I was beneath a truck. It necessitated a trip to the casualty department of Dartford hospital.

These cracked heads were not always my own fault. On one occasion my father took me to the Crook Log indoor swimming pool in Bexleyheath. I was in the ducklings pool, being teased by Colin, who was one of the hooligans. Colin was two years older than me and he had a really pointy chin. He dived into the pool, and yes, you’ve guessed it, his chin hit my head and cracked it open. The ducklings pool turned red and they had to close it. Don’t ask me why, but my father took me to the Queen Elizabeth military hospital at the bottom end of Shooters Hill (so-called because in days of old it was a favoured spot for highway robbery). Likewise, at the hospital my father gave them a phoney rank and number. I had my head stitched by someone who looked like the Brigadier in Doctor Who.

Pull your trousers and pants down and bend over, boy
Mr Jakeways then proceeded to give me two lashes with the cane, punishment for having broken a school window with a cricket ball. I tried not to cry. Mr Jakeways was a tall man and knew how to use a cane. He had balding hair, a lined face and was well into his sixties. In fact, I was probably one of the last boys he canned because he retired that year, the summer of 1972, after being Headmaster at Mayplace school for nineteen years. The old boy used to keep a school diary and this is his final entry in it:Continue reading →

With not much more than two weeks to go until the Midterm elections in the USA, a ‘migrant caravan’ of more than 7000 people has crossed the border from Guatemala to Mexico. Apparently the migrants are planning to then storm the US border in order to ‘find work’. Also this week a score of homemade pipe bombs have been sent through the mail to prominent people associated with the Democratic Party, except that they weren’t real bombs and the guy who we’re told is responsible for it has now been arrested. This guy, we’re told, is a hardline Trump supporter and is from Florida, except that he can’t spell Florida on the return address label on the packages he sent the bombs in, packages that have no postal marks on the stamps, to name just a few anomalies. What to make of it all..? It’s hard to say in the post-truth Alice In Wonderland world that we now live in.

Amidst the marauding migrants and the bozo bomber this startling news about the INF treaty has barely received a mention in the media. Neither has President Putin’s reaction to the news…

The Doomsday Clock is edging ever closer to midnight. It’s all depressing stuff. So, a more lighthearted take on things with an excerpt from my memoir When I Went Out One Summer’s Morn. This excerpt is set in the 1980s during the height of the old Cold War. I should add that the now withdrawn Ost-West Express was my favourite train, because at the time it crossed Europe’s ideological divide (the Iron Curtain) and went to the heart of the ‘evil empire’, Moscow. The train used to run in two sections, from London/Oostende and from Paris, and via Berlin they would join in Warsaw for the journey on to Moscow (From London, including the Channel ferry, the rail journey to Moscow used to take just over two days; from Paris a little under two days – I’ve done this journey from both Paris and London). The track gauge in the USSR/Russia is wider than in Europe, so at the border the entire train would be hoisted on hydraulic jacks. to allow them to change the carriage wheels to accommodate the wider gauge.
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Ersatz Bond

The girl watched the comings and goings on the platform. The poetry of departure. I smiled at her as the Ost-West Express began to leave Berlin Zoo station. It was a brisk November day. I asked the girl if she could watch my bag while I went to the restaurant car. There was little point asking her to save my seat. The train would remain half empty until we crossed into western Europe. In the restaurant car I bought some snacks and a beer. The idea was to get rid of my remaining East German marks, which were worthless in the West.

West Berlin became a memory as the Ost-West Express passed beneath the Berlin Wall and came to a halt at the Griebnitzsee border post. The border guards gave the train the once over. Going in this direction (east-west) the inspections were never that rigorous; after all, who would want to smuggle themself into East Germany. Within 15 minutes we were on the move again. It was now 106 miles to the frontier with West Germany, the Iron Curtain. I bought two bottles of beer and returned to the compartment. The girl thanked me for the beer and we chatted as the grim scenary of East Germany went by. Continue reading →

Have you noticed that all the recent ‘terror attacks’ in the West have suddenly stopped? Here’s a run through of some of the major ones (most of which happened in France) set against events in Syria (I’m not going to give links. You can look it up if you doubt the veracity of anything I’m saying):

September 2014: the Americans started bombing Syria, based on what was later proved to be a false flag chemical attack blamed on the Assad government.

January 2015: two brothers, Saïd and Chérif Kouachi, forced their way into the Paris offices of the French satirical weekly newspaper Charlie Hebdo. Armed with assault rifles and other weapons, they killed twelve people and injured eleven others. Charlie Hebdo had been publishing humorous cartoons which depicted the prophet Muhammad, including nude caricatures. The gunmen identified themselves as belonging to an Islamist terrorist group based in Yemen, which took responsibility for the attack. Several related attacks followed in the Île-de-France region, where a further five were killed and eleven wounded.

Summer 2015: people fleeing American-led wars, particularly in Syria, caused the biggest refugee crisis in Europe since the Second World War. There were Biblical scenes of hoardes of dusky skinned people walking along roads and crossing fields. Not one European leader had the balls to stand up to the Americans about this (because all European leaders are bought and paid for).

September 2015: at the invitation of the Assad government the Russians intervened in Syria.

November 2015: another terrorist jolly, on Friday the 13th no less. It took place in Paris during the evening. Three suicide bombers struck outside the Stade de France in Saint-Denis, during a football match. This was followed by several mass shootings, and a suicide bombing, at cafés and restaurants. Gunmen carried out another mass shooting and took hostages at an Eagles of Death Metal concert in the Bataclan theatre, leading to a stand-off with police. The attackers were shot or blew themselves up when police raided the theatre. Syrian passports were found near the bodies of two of the terrorists and the next day ISIS claimed responsibility for the Paris attacks.

In Syria the bloodbath continued relentlessly.That month, Turkish forces shot down a Russian warplane near the Syria–Turkey border. In December the Russians claimed that oil from deposits controlled by Islamic State were being moved through Turkey on an industrial scale. The western media pumped out a barrage of hate against Putin & Co. The usual batshit crazies in Washington and London were screaming for war with Russia, not seeming to understand what such a war would mean. The run-up to Christmas 2015 was perhaps the most dangerous time for the world since the Cuban missile crisis in 1962.

Thankfully, the Russians remained calm amid all the hysteria. The Turks, too, seemed to realise that things were getting totally out of control and in Spring 2016 they began to enact major changes to their foreign policy, including a thaw in relations with Russia. In March, Russia withdrew most of its military from Syria, saying that five months of campaigns had mostly succeeded in eliminating the immediate wider threat from ISIS. All this was against the backdrop of continued NATO expansion along Russia’s borders, and the Americans announcing that they were going to base missiles in Poland and Romania.

March 2016: another major terror attack, not in France this time but in neighbouring Belgium. Three coordinated suicide bombings occurred in Brussels, killing 32 people. ISIS claimed responsibility for the attacks. Once again we had para-military police and all the rest of it. The city of Brussels was put into lockdown for four days.

On 15 July 2016, a coup d’état was attempted in Turkey against state institutions, including the government and President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan. Most commentators think that the CIA were behind this coup.

With the Russians now once again taking military action against ISIS in Syria, and at the same time as the Turkish coup, US Secretary of State John Kerry was due to fly to Moscow on 15th July 2016 for talks with President Putin about the situation in Syria. One day before these talks took place another major terror event occurred in France. A large cargo lorry was deliberately driven into crowds celebrating Bastille Day on the Promenade des Anglais in Nice, resulting in the deaths of 86 people and injuring 434. ISIS claimed responsibility for the attack. Hours after the attack, President Hollande addressed the nation. He stated that France was now at war and the state of emergency, which was due to expire on 26th July, would be extended by another 3 months, with considerations for it to be made permanent (it has now been made permanent under President Macron).

Christmas 2016: another major terrorist attack, this time in Germany. A truck was driven into the Christmas market next to the Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church in Berlin, leaving 12 people dead and 56 others injured. ISIS claimed responsibility for the attack, which came one day before talks on Syria were held in Moscow. Russia, Iran and Turkey pledged to expand a fragile cease-fire deal involving Syria’s government and the opposition. Uncle Sam & Co were not invited to these talks.

There’s been many more ‘terror attacks’ during the period I’m covering here, but looking at these major ones do you see how it mirrors exactly what was going on in Syria, and to the benefit of the psychos who want to perpetuate a war in Syria? (and to hell with the huge number of innocents who get slaughtered in the process)

Another hallmark of these ‘terror attacks’ is how the mainstream media promote them, in the sense that the MSM pump out an orgy of fear and grief for days and days on end (just in case you don’t get the message). The really frightening thing about this is that it’s co-ordinated across the entire mainstream media.

This brings me onto the apparent recent murder of the Saudi journalist Jamal Khashoggi. Notice the saturation coverage by the MSM…

Crown Prince Mohammad Bin Salman (known as MBS), the effective ruler of Saudi Arabia, has recently been feted by the MSM as a great reformer, because he’s now allowing women to drive cars and is not beheading quite so many teenagers for committing sorcery. Why the sudden 180 degree turn by the MSM on MBS? That’s probably an easy one to answer:

I mean the three Ms: Merkel, Macron and May (by the way, that link I gave for President Macron doesn’t mention that he voted himself a 54% pay increase last June; this while millions of French workers have been out on the streets protesting against ‘austerity’). All of them are neo-con puppets who have completely betrayed their people and all of them are now on very shaky political ground; the latest being UK prime minister Theresa May, who’s just kicked Brexit even further down the road in a vain attempt to keep herself and the Conservative party in power (ie, to keep the bankers in power). Theresa May’s government is now on a lifeline from the DUP and from an ever decreasing number of Tory MPs who remain loyal to her. In otherwords, we could have a general election in the UK next month, November; and if Theresa May’s government does manage to cling on beyond this it seems unlikely that it will last out its full term. Hello Jeremy Corbyn, which will be interesting, to put it mildly. I should add that the Labour Party manifesto is the only one of the UK political parties that has been fully costed, and much of what the Labour Party proposes to do (such as nationalisation) is illegal within the EU. Corbyn, of course, has been a lifelong opponent of the EU project, and the only reason he now goes along with it is because he’s the leader of a party that has a majority of remainers, and as the leader of the party he has to represent this.

The EU is a big part of the American empire. I could really go into one about Brexit. But instead all I will say is that the UK government should just tell the EU to fuck off, and the UK government should pull out, right now. Leave it to the (undemocratic neo-con) EU to explain to German car manufacturers, or French wine and cheese producers, or Danish bacon producers, etc, etc, etc, why they can no longer export their goods to the UK, or why the EU can’t take tariff free imports from the UK. That should be a laugh.

For some reason this cover of a famous Bowie song resonates with me with regard to Carry On Brexit. For obvious reasons, this kind of stuff absolutely terrifies the psychopaths who rule us…

This is from one of two tributes I made to David Bowie when he died a few years back, which if interested you can find here.

I’ve always had a fascination with railways. Part of this might be because I was born in London and grew up there. London, of course, has an extensive rail network. I can still just about remember working steam engines on what was then British Railways (steam was withdrawn in 1968, when I was four-years-old). Since then I’ve traveled on railways all over the world. This includes traveling by train across the old Soviet Union to China (on the Trans-Siberian and Trans-Mongolian – I had two close escapes from death on that trip), and going coast to coast by rail in North America. Such journeys were very lengthy, but one of my favourite rail journeys was a short hop in the south of France back in the early 1980s. The following is a short excerpt from a tale called Down and out in Paris and Rotterdam, from my first memoir When I Went Out One Summer’s Morn – Travel tales from a misspent youth:
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My cousin Andre and I were backpacking in the south of France. After a couple of weeks we found ourselves in Saint-Tropez and had a meal in a restaurant on the beach. It looked like an inexpensive place and we ordered the cheapest menu; or so we thought: young, stupid and still unable to fully grasp the French language, the sumptuous four courses were in fact an a la carte menu. The bill made us wince, but we had to pay it and luckily we could just about cover the 1100 franc tab. They didn’t get a tip. After the weeks spent traveling along the Riviera, 1100 francs was just about everything we had left. That night we slept on the nearby beach.

The next morning we brushed off sand, then pooled and counted our spare change. Depressing stuff. We couldn’t even afford a bus to Marseille, let alone a train up to Paris, from where we did have a ticket to London and home. With a weary air of resignation we walked to the outskirts of town and began hitching for a lift. Breakfast was a luxury that we couldn’t really afford. Andre had half a loaf in his rucksack; stale of course. We stood on the side of the road and masticated bread as the millionaires drove by.

The eastern part of the French Riviera, from Fréjus and Saint-Raphaël along to the Italian border via Cannes, Antibes, Nice and Monaco and Monte-Carlo, is very busy. The coast here is almost continuously built-up. The western part of the Riviera, from Saint-Raphaël and Saint-Tropez to Toulon, is much more rural and quiet. Here, the main coastal highway and the railway line are far inland leaving a somewhat isolated stretch of coast known as the Côte Varoise. The Côte Varoise was developed for tourism much later than the rest of the Riviera, and by that time there were much stricter planning laws in place: there’s no high rise tourist accommodation here.

Sounds nice, but not if you’re skint and hitchhiking. It took Andre and me all day and well into the evening, with three different rides, before we were finally dropped off on the outskirts of Toulon. Now all we had to do was get to Marseille, which was less than an hour’s drive away. We bought some croissants for dinner and a cheap bottle of vin rouge, then stuck our thumbs out.

The coastal railway line lay a short distance from the road. A slow moving goods train was going by. From here there were only two directions: east along the coast towards Nice, or west to Marseille. The goods train was heading west. Andre and I looked at each other, then grabbed our rucksacks and ran over to the tracks. Climbing onto a moving train can be a tricky business, especially when you’re carrying a heavy rucksack. We managed to position ourselves at the end of a hopper wagon near the back of the train. There didn’t seem much chance of anyone spotting us as it was dusk; also, the curved ends of the hopper formed a sort of cave in which we could hide. Our biggest worry was that the train might be terminating in Toulon, which is a large town and port; but no, it trundled through without stopping and continued along the coast, giving spectacular views of sunset over the Mediterranean.

Just over an hour and a bottle of vin rouge later we reached Marseille. After a few stops and starts the train finally came to rest in sidings right near the main Saint-Charles station. We didn’t want to attract attention to ourselves by walking along the tracks, so instead we climbed a high fence that enclosed the sidings and made our way to the station by road. Of course, we didn’t have enough money to buy a ticket to Paris. Back then, though, it used to be fairly easy to ride French trains without a ticket. If you told the ticket collector you were broke they would take your name, address and passport number and you’d be billed when you got back home. However, this did not stop them throwing you off the train before you got to your intended destination, so the key to it was to use an express train. We glanced at the departure board. The next Paris train was at ten minutes to midnight, stopping only once at Dijon. Perfect. It was always easier to avoid ticket collectors on overnight trains, and if we could do so until after Dijon we knew we’d get to Paris.

End of excerpt
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At about the same time that Andre and I were slumming it in the south of France in the early 1980s, the English poet John Betjeman kicked the bucket, aged 77. Betjeman was a lover of railways and in this respect is best known for his documentary Metro-Land, which was first broadcast by the BBC in 1973. John Betjeman made a number of programmes about railways, and this little gem about the Somerset and Dorset Railway was put out by the BBC in 1963. Watching the somewhat tubby Betjeman puffing away on full strength Capstan cigarettes, it’s amazing that he made the age of 77…

On yesterday’s Richie Allen Show he interviewed the independent film maker John Hankey, who’s best known for his films about the JFK assassination. This month John Hankey has released a film called Is Trump for Real? The film is about how Hankey bought into the Trump phenomenon during the election campaign, but soon became disillusioned when Trump became President (a similar story for many of us). This prompted Hankey to delve deeper into who President Trump really is. Here’s the blurb for his film:

(Click the above link to see a free 10 minute trailor for the film, or to rent the film for just one buck)

The following is an excerpt from yesterday’s Richie Allen interview. I had great trouble editing this, because the interview pinballs somewhat, from Trump to Adolf Hitler to JFK to Steve Bannon, as Richie Allen and John Hankey try to steer the listener through the absolute hall of mirrors that is the modern media. It should be noted how much of a part British intelligence has had in all this, and how totally infiltrated the so-called ‘alternate’ media is.

This excerpt begins with Allen and Hankey comparing Trump to Hitler, in the sense that when both Trump and Hitler came to power they immediately started doing the bidding of the bankers…

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The full 35 minute interview can be found here (it starts 1 hour 15 minutes into the video).

Has anyone wondered why the justice Brett Kavanaugh stuff has been so widely covered by the MSM, and in particular the MSM outside of America? It’s because there’s an agenda here, and the Brett Kavanaugh malarky is all pure theatre; none of it is real. If it were real, and we had a proper Fourth Estate, Brett Kavanaugh could easily be torn apart for his record on being complicit in the ripping-up of the American Constitution since 9/11 (something I bang on about quite often on this blog). Instead we get all this historical sexual abuse nonsense and the ‘evil democrats’ from the Alt-Right. Brett Kavanaugh should be in jail, not sitting on the supreme court, because Kavanaugh is more a total traitor than a sex vamp.

But much of the the Alt-right don’t see it this way. Instead, Trump is a knight in shining armour, who’s playing 3D chess in order to rid America of its enemies and ‘drain the swamp’. There’s white hats and black hats and an almighty battle going on behind the scenes to round-up all the paedophiles and communists and socialists. This has all been egged on by the QAnon psy-op which a frightening number of people have fallen for. It’s all wrapped in the Make America Great Again (MAGA) meme. Here’s some examples…

(I have to suffer all this stuff in order to try and get a handle on what’s going on)

The martial law stuff has come from QAnon over recent months. Apparently Trump and the white hats are going to have to declare martial law while they arrest all the paedophiles and communists and socialists (it cracks me up how politically naive many Americans are). I should stress that a huge number of people follow all the QAnon stuff – it’s not a small psy-op. According to the QAnon brigade the recent confirmation of Brett Kavanaugh on the supreme court is the last piece in the jigsaw of Trump’s 3D chess (?!). Now martial law will be declared to MAGA, and they’re calling it ‘Red October’.

Hopefully, QAnon is a Live Action Role Play (LARP); ie, a hoax. Unfortunately this does not appear to be the case, and the reason that people like me mention QAnon is because it’s a huge operation by the security services and Trump seems to be in on it. They really do seem to be softening up a section of the American public to accept martial law.

Actually, with all the laws passed since 9/11, America is now to all intents and purposes a police state, and martial law wouldn’t make too much difference to this. The only reason for bringing in martial law would be if Trump & Co are going to start a major war, because in that event even totally propagandised Americans would take to the streets in large numbers to protest. If you doubt that a major war is in the offering I would suggest that you take a close look at President Trump and the sort of people he surrounds himself with. I don’t think these psychos in Washington are yet mad enough to directly attack Russia and/or China, so that leaves Iran. President Trump recently pulled out of the Iran nuclear deal for no good reason, which is just one of many important international treaties that the USA has recently walked away from. Today it was announced that Nikki Haley has resigned as the US ambassador to the United Nations and will leave her post at the end of the year, in a move that stunned allied diplomats and other senior officials; or to put it less diplomatically, most UN members will be relieved that they’ll no longer have to suffer the rants of a complete psycho like Nikki Haley (who was only slightly less unhinged than her predecessor Samantha Power), a Nikki Haley who often seemed to be confused about whether she was working for America or Israel.

President Trump has said that he’ll name another US ambassador to the United Nations in the “next two or three weeks”, despite the fact that the USA treats the UN with utter contempt; and as always the USA stomps around the world like a demented Frankenstein, a Frankenstein that’s now openly laughed at by the UN. But hey, let’s make America great again, by starting yet another idiotic war and slaughtering millions of innocent people. Yup, that’s what I call great, whilst wearing my MAGA baseball cap.

I’m in a project at the moment that involves the Vietnam war. Naturally enough some of this research is on YouTube. I was perhaps not so horrified to see that over the last five years or so all criticism of the Vietnam war has been purged from YouTube. You now have to look really hard to find stuff that’s not pro-Pentagon.

Vietnam was the last time that independent reporters were allowed to roam freely in the war zone. The American war machine learned a lesson from this, and ever since ‘reporters’ have been embedded with the military. This means nothing gets reported. For instance, during the 2003 Iraq war, American grunts were not given live ammo until they got right up to the front line, because so many of the grunts were shooting their own officers.

John Pilger says likewise in this report about the Vietnam war, broadcasted in 1970. Pilger had real balls to make this programme, because he was out there in the field with the grunts and his life was equally in danger. In a similar vein, kudos to ITV (in the UK) for putting this piece out. You will never, ever, see anything like this thesedays, because we now live in nightmare police states.

Pilger’s piece is not really that critical, but it does show reality, and the one thing that the psychopaths who rule us don’t want is for us to see this reality…

At this time of year I always have a big conscience issue. Even though it’s late at night the cows are still crying out for their children.

All the calves are being taken away to the slaughterhouse, and the cows are noisily crying for their calves. It’s one of those instances when you really think that you should be a vegetarian. Who knows…

Someone I was very close to here in France died unexpectedly last July. Cut a long story short, I finally got the urn containing the ashes of this person this morning. The urn is now sitting on the dining room table, where this person always used to be seated (the dining room table is massive, and seats 12 people, and is only used on special occasions – most meals are taken at the table in the kitchen, in case you think I’m being overly morbid).

Next month we’re going to have a ceremony with family and friends, when we will scatter the ashes into the river Vienne, which is one of the four great rivers of France. This song kinda sums up how I’m feeling at the moment; and I know that readers of this blog have suffered similar loses recently, so please post links to music that helped you get through it…

(YouTube really are a piece of shite – they blocked my previous embed of this song)